Of Regrets and How To Cope
by scorpioan
Summary: After everything that the team has been through and everything they have lost, May is struggling to keep her feelings locked inside. How far is she willing to go to keep up the facade and will Coulson be able to prevent the worst from happening?
1. Chapter 1

**A/N** : This is my first AOS fanfiction, hope you like it! Please leave a comment or review if you do (:

* * *

May felt exhausted and tired, wanting nothing more than to spend a night in an actual bed that was in an actual room located somewhere on solid ground. The team had been stuck flying around on the Zephyr for days on end and still, there had been no sign of when they would actually be able to touch ground, which didn't exactly help to lighten anyone's mood. After spending so much time together in a contained space everyone started to feel a bit on edge. They've grown a lot closer too, and May would never deny caring very much for them but it was hard to get some privacy and alone time. The only time she truly felt like herself again was when she was sitting in the cockpit. She'd always liked flying; the feeling of freedom and calmness and quietness it provided. It had been the initial reason she had accepted Coulson's offer, though how could she ever say no to Coulson?

With a sigh she sank back in her seat. Her shoulder and neck muscles felt tensed and stiff, and she tried massaging them to release some of the uncomfortable pain. Her mind wandered back to the time she promised herself to never go back in the field again. _Look at where you're now_ , she thought. A part of her wanted to return to her little cubicle, back to stamping documents, signing letters and answering phones. She'd admit that it was boring but at least it was a safe place, physically and mentally. There was no risk of getting shot or stabbed or tortured and she wouldn't have to live with the fear that someone on the team could possibly die anytime they went on a mission. She couldn't afford losing any more people.

But then again, she couldn't be so selfish and stay away. She had tried; going on vacation, rekindling the strained relationship with her parents but something has always pulled her back to the team. More like _someone_ … Coulson. She needed to be there to protect him, as well as everybody else on this plane, whatever the cost. Because that is what she'd ultimately signed up for. No one calls in the Cavalry just to fly a plane.

Yet, she had failed this exact tasked all those years ago because she chose to be selfish. She chose to sit behind her desk and keep her head down; working in Administrations instead of going to New York with Coulson because he'd clearly needed her by his side. But damn him for always relying on her to save him and damn her for not being there to protect him when he needed her most. It had always been this way since the Academy. He'd been funny, dorky and charming and particularly great with words, somehow invariably able to convince people of what he needed to. She'd been quiet, letting her actions speak louder than words, whether it was on missions, in her martial arts training or those pranks that she loved to pull in their dorms. She smiled at the memory. She missed those times, back when she didn't feel like the responsibility and weight on her shoulders was crushing her.

She had to admit that she hid those feelings well. Still, she scoffed at the memory of Daisy calling her a statue and Phil describing her as robot-like. Everyone believed that she didn't feel anything, that she was able to just brush every tragedy that happened to the team, every loss of a friend or every betrayal from those you trusted the most, off like they were nothing. But on the inside, she'd felt everything just as intense as the others but she'd chosen to push it down and keep a blank face because the team needed her to do that. They needed the Cavalry to protect them, to be strong for them and keep them from harm, not to break down crying because their friends got hurt. So it had been easy to forget that the Cavalry was human, and that human was Melinda May and she had feelings and emotions just like everybody else.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N** : Trigger warning for self-harm in this one. Hope you enjoy anyway (:

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After Bahrain, when her whole world had shattered to pieces and her grip of control slipped from her fingertips, she'd started to develop a coping mechanism. It had been then that she felt like drowning in an ocean of pain and regret and numbness at the same time, and all that she had been longing for was a way out and control over all the emotions she felt. It had been another day where she tried to wash away all her guilt in the shower while the cold water was hitting her head. It helped to drown out all the voices in her mind for the time being but once she'd dried off and slipped on her bathrobe, she felt just as bad as before. Her mind flashed with images of the little girl's hand reaching out for her, how her face went from smiling to looking terrified to simply looking _dead_.

"No, get away from me," she whispered, stumbling backwards, her hands in tight fists.  
She slowly sank down to the ground, her body trembling with sobs but she wouldn't allow a tear to fall. Instead, she tried to control her breathing, taking deep breaths in and out while her feelings were bubbling below the surface, dreading to burst out. What she needed was control; control of what she felt and when she felt it and whether she felt it at all. May wasn't sure which unconscious part of her brain decided for her body to move. She found herself sitting on her knees, hands rummaging through the cupboard beneath the sink until she found a small metal blade. It felt cold against her fingertips as she stared at how it reflected the bright light in the bathroom.

"Give me your pain", she heard a voice in her head scream, loud and high-pitched.  
"Take it", she spat back and gripped the blade tightly as she dragged it across her forearm.  
She'd been cut on missions before but this felt entirely different. It hurt and burned and stung like fire erupting on her skin and almost brought tears to her eyes. Blood started to pour out, dripping down her arm and onto the bathrobe. But she couldn't bring herself to care because suddenly, somehow, everything else was quiet and so far away that her mind only focused on the aching sensation of the cut. And finally, she had control over what she was feeling as relief flooded her senses because for the first time in days, she'd felt the closest thing to happiness.

Absentmindedly, her fingers traced the almost faded scar on her forearm as her mind drifted back to the first time she'd dragged the blade across her skin. It had been a relief and punishment at the same time. The scar from the second time was a parallel line just half an inch below the first one. Surprisingly, it dated back almost half a decade after the first one. It wasn't like May didn't want to cut during that time but she'd made a promise to someone very special to her that she couldn't break.

As always, it had been Coulson who'd been there for her when he accidentally saw the angry red gash on her forearm while they were writing their mission report for Bahrain. After hours of discussing and listening to him scolding her and expressing his most sincere concerns, he'd been able to reach through to her. He was able to sooth all the wounds and pain she'd felt in the past days because no one cared about her as much as Coulson did. Additionally, and in true Coulson fashion, he made her pinky promise not to ever intentionally hurt herself _ever_ again. With an eye roll and a smile that hadn't been on her face in quite a while, she'd accepted, wondering what she'd ever do without him in her life.

And then New York happened.

When the news of Coulson's death reached her, the pain had been overwhelming and there would have never been enough cuts to take away from that. But she did so anyway because it was Coulson who'd made her promise and now he was dead and forever gone, and all she wanted to do was throw his promise right back in his face. How dare he leave her like that? Looking at the blood seeping from the gash on her forearm she wondered how Coulson would react to it. Whether he would freak out or yell at her or hug her so tightly until nothing else in the world mattered. She was undeniably angry at him but still, she missed him so much. With a pang of guilt she realized that she'd let down her best friend. She hadn't been there for him when he needed her most and now, she was breaking the promise that he had begged her to keep all those years ago. So she stopped pushing the blade further into her skin, instead inviting the hurt and grief back in as she cried for days, mourning her loss. By the end of it, she'd retraced so far into her shell that she'd closed off her heart and sworn to never care for someone that much again.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N** : This one's a bit shorter but there's nothing else I could've added that would fit the storyline.. hope you enjoy it anyway ((:  
Also thank you very much to everyone reading and following this story, it means the world to me.  
Again, trigger warning for mentions of self-harm in this chapter.

* * *

May had been in the cockpit for so long that she didn't realize that it was past midnight. The whole team must have been asleep by now. Finally, she felt like she was undisturbed, left alone with nothing but the thoughts in her head. In the closed off space of her cockpit she for once allowed herself to smile at the fact that the first thing her mind focused on had been Coulson. If being stuck on a plane for weeks had one advantage, it was that she was able to see him every day, knowing that he was alive and well. And she was willing to do everything in her power to keep it that way. She couldn't allow herself to fail again. Two lines gracing her forearm were proof of the times that she had failed him but they were nowhere near enough redemption for the pain she'd caused. The upper one had been for New York. The lower one for Tahiti.

Everything they did had been in Coulson's best interest. At least that's what Fury had been trying to convince her of when he'd assigned her to watch over her former partner. She wasn't sure how he would react when he'd find out that she had been reporting all of his activities to Fury, but she definitely didn't expect him to shoot her. Even though it had only been an I.C.E.R.; the fact that Phil Coulson was able to point a gun at her – real one or not – made it clear to her how much she had strained their friendship with her actions. The saddest thing had been that she did all of it solely for _him_ , with his best interest at heart. But the fact that he wasn't able to trust her anymore made her want to plunge deep into old habits.

"I was hoping you'd come back," had been his first words when she'd returned after departing from the team in Canada. She felt a gentle warmth creep into her heart that she hadn't felt in quite a while and she almost let herself believe his words. But his actions had spoken for the way he'd truly felt and she wasn't ready to forgive him – no, forgive herself – yet. She thought that showing him his video report to Fury would help ease her conscience but it hadn't been of much use.

So that night, when she retreated to her hotel room she felt a familiar urge awaken and rising up inside her. For a moment, there'd been nothing but the need for punishment and wanting to strip herself of all of her flaws and mistakes. Another cut was placed on her forearm as a reminder to never betray Phil's trust again.

While she was at it, she decided to press the blade into her skin one more time, this time for Ward. She hated herself for allowing an infiltrator and spy to scar her skin like that but she needed the reminder. She needed to remember how easily she trusted him, even slept with him, and allowed him to hurt her team members. She had been trained for this, so she should have known better. But even decades of work experience weren't able to help her detect his true nature. Maybe she shouldn't be blaming herself because Ward had been so convincing and good at what he was doing that there'd been no way for her to find out. Nevertheless, she heard her mother's voice in her head, scolding her that she had raised a smarter daughter than this. How she should have known better because in this business she should never allow herself to trust anyone. Sometimes she isn't even sure if she could trust herself anymore.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N** : I promise that May will get a hug in the next few chapter because she really really needs and deserves it. But not just yet.. she'll have to suffer through this chapter first. And I promise I don't enjoy hurting her intentionally! This is all just for the purpose of the story line. (:  
As always, trigger warning for mentions and descriptions of self-harm.

* * *

She hadn't allowed herself to cry since Andrew's death. Though initially it wasn't him who had died but that _thing_ , that monster consuming his body and mind. Andrew had been taken from her a long time before that. Just when she finally had been ready to open her heart to him again, he had turned his back on her. Ironically, she had done the exact same thing all those years ago after Bahrain. It was like fate had taken its revenge on her for choosing herself over their marriage.

After losing Phil in New York, she'd sworn to never get attached to someone again. But Andrew made it so easy for her to fall for him once more. He was charming and kind and gentle, in a way portraying a polar opposite to May.

Seeing him all those year after their divorce had brought back many pleasant memories of their happier times together. She'd tried to suppress them because she'd been reaching out to him for work, and work only. At least that's what she had told herself. But nonetheless, he deserved better than to be dragged into her life of dangerous undercover missions and alien science and technology again.

May hated to admit it but Coulson had been right all those years ago. She should've never dated civilians, let alone marry one. It was complicated and messy and there'd been too many things left unsaid that drove Andrew and her further and further apart. She took her job so incredibly serious that it'd only been a matter of time for them to go separate ways.

Instead of an apology to him she let the fourth scar on her forearm speak for itself. She could still recall seeing Lash's lifeless body being brought back to the base. Even though it looked nothing like Andrew, she couldn't help but feel a part of her heart break and crumble into a million tiny pieces.

So that night, in true Melinda May fashion, she'd locked herself into her room, shutting the outside world out because she didn't need their pity. She didn't need the team's condolences or comforting words because they wouldn't make the situation any better. All she needed was a grasp of control over her emotions because she'd be damned if she'd let them come to the surface. There was no time for grief, not in her line of work. The cut had been quick and clean, barely able to shut up the voices of accusations in her head.

But it had been time to move on.

May tried to convince herself that she had no reason to punish herself for his death. It had been completely out of her control. Therefore, it was ridiculous for her to blame herself but nonetheless, she felt partially responsible. It'd been a series of events that triggered his death but if she hadn't dragged him into her life in the first place, he would probably still be alive. Without her, there would've been no Bahrain for him to put up with, no divorce to go through, no S.H.I.E.L.D. dealing with Inhumans, no Terregenesis for him to experience and of course, no Lash.

May clenched her fists in anger. She knew that without Lash, there probably would've been no way to release Daisy from Hive's spell and bring her back to the base safely. Lash had served his purpose in rescuing the young agent and though May was more than grateful for that, the whole situation had a bitter undertone to it. It had been a simple exchange of lives, but unfortunately it had been one life for two.

That night had been the last time she'd cut herself. She couldn't afford anyone getting suspicious, especially Coulson. Her reputation would be ruined, all the respect she'd gained and worked so hard for over the years would be lost. The team would look at her with pity like she was some broken thing that needed to be fixed. They would never understand how dragging a sharp blade into her skin was her way of fixing herself.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N** : Back with another update! Hope you enjoy and thank you for reading and following (:  
Trigger warning for descriptions of self-harm.

* * *

It had been a bit more than a week since the team was able to return from space. They barely had time to process what had happened before they were thrown into another mission. The comfort of being on earth again wasn't able to make up for everything they went through in the dystopian future. Everyone was way too exhausted and jumpy to make living together on a closed off space like the Zephyr enjoyable. Whatever strength they were able to muster was dedicated to the mission. So it was no surprise that none of the team members noticed that May had locked herself in the cockpit for over 24 hours.

With her body being hurt and wounded, her mind had gotten more vulnerable too. Never ending flashbacks of her past regrets were tormenting her and it seemed that there was no way to escape them. She thought that she had closed those chapters with each cut she made but she couldn't rid herself of the memories. The scars on her arm felt like they were on fire.

May looked at the night sky surrounding the cockpit. It was so quiet on the plane that she couldn't hear anything but the sound of the engines and her own breathing. Outside it was completely dark with small thin clouds occasionally drifting by. That night it had been just as dark. Though there never had been much light on the earth's surface in the future anyway.

May's brows furrowed. She was getting emotional and upset over the loss of someone she wasn't even supposed to know. It had all been in an alternative timeline that hasn't happened yet and probably would never happen. But still, Robin's death affected her more than May wanted to admit. To lose the chance of having a child, a _daughter_ , this many times in her life… it broke her, nearly as much as Bahrain broke her. Only this time, there was no part of her left that she could lose anymore. She'd left everything behind in that warehouse all those years ago.

Unconsciously, she pulled out a small knife from her coat pocket. There was no rational reasoning for what she did except that it was mere force of habit. She hadn't been able to save Robin – the girl who called her _Mom_ –, which again proved that she failed to protect the people closest to her. The line on her forearm was going to be an eternal reminder of that.

Choosing a knife to make the cut wasn't optimal, and May knew that. But desperate times called for desperate measures and there weren't any other sharp objects around. The knife looked duller than the small blade she'd normally use but it should still be able to cut her.

May let out a gasp at the stinging pain of the blade slicing through her skin and immediately dropped the knife on the floor. It had been a lot sharper than she'd expected thus she had put too much force into dragging the blade over the surface of her left arm.

Though she would have never admitted it to anyone else, she was exhausted and tired and that made her sloppy. So the cut had been too close to her wrist and a lot deeper than intended. She tried clasping her right hand over to wound to stop the blood from pouring out but it was of little use. Crimson droplets trickled down her arm and eventually on the floor. She was going to make a mess in the cockpit.

She cursed herself for not being more careful because now there was no way to clean the blood off the floor without anyone noticing. For a second, May contemplated leaving the cockpit to get a first aid kit but quickly discarded that thought since she'd probably leave a trail of blood behind, which required even more cleaning up. Instead, she tried to look around for a bandage or cloth that she cut put around her wrist to minimize the bleeding but couldn't find anything.

The wound didn't seem to have slowed down in bleeding. Mixed with the lack of sleep it made her feel extremely lightheaded and dizzy, and she grabbed the armrest of her seat for more support. May knew that if she'd get up now she would tumble over, so she decided to stay seated. Nonetheless, she was unable to fight her body as she drifted further and further into unconsciousness.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N:** Sorry for the long wait, but I'm finally back with another chapter now! Thank you for the kind comments and to everyone who's following and reading this story (:  
Hope you enjoy this little lighter chapter.

* * *

Coulson woke up to the feeling of his bed trembling. When he opened his eyes he realized that it wasn't his bed but rather the whole plane that was shaking. With a start he noticed the emergency alarm blaring in the hallway. Opening the door, he was immediately greeted by the flickering lights, which didn't do anything to calm his nerves.

It must have been almost 6 in the morning since the sun was starting to rise though the sky was still dark and gray. They must have flown into an air hole that caused the turmoil. While he was stumbling and trying to make his way to the common room he ran into a very panicked Daisy.

"Coulson, what's happening?"

"We must have gotten into an air hole. It should be over soon."

"This has been going on for the past twenty minutes, it isn't just an air hole! There's something seriously wrong with the plane."

Twenty minutes? He has slept through twenty minutes of turbulences without noticing anything? Great.

"Where is everybody else?"

"They're already waiting in the common room. That's why I'm here to get you… don't tell me you just woke up," Daisy said as if reading his mind.

He was about to come up with an excuse when the plane shook so violently that he had to grab the wall in order not to tumble over. Whatever this was, it was serious. He just prayed that it wasn't another attack from Hydra or the Kree.

As soon as the shaking eased down a little, Daisy grabbed his hand and dragged him along the corridor to the common room. He heard her mutter something about fixing this soon and crashing and old people? Coulson wasn't sure whether he understood the last one correctly, so he just decided to ignore it, hoping that it had nothing to do with him.

Once they'd reached the common room, he noticed how the whole team looked very serious. Not a good sign, at all, Coulson thought. He was planning on saying 'Good Morning' but then decided that it wouldn't be the right time nor circumstance. Instead he went with, "What's our status?"

"We still haven't been able to determine the source of the shaking," Fitz said. "All engines are working properly, all numbers are what they're supposed to be-"

"-Except for our altitude of course," Simmons added.

"There have been no signs of security branch or any other intrusion, even our course hasn't been altered the slightest bit," Fitz sounded more and more desperate as he continued to talk. Coulson quickly looked at the map on the LED screen just to confirm what Fitz has been saying. Then he glanced to the top of the screen where their altitude was displayed. Numbers were racing on the display, changing way too quickly. The Zephyr was declining. Fast.

Why has nobody told him that they were declin- Oh right, he was asleep. Coulson could have punched himself for that. If they'd continue to drop in height like that, they'd crash in the Atlantic Ocean in no more than 15 minutes. That meant that they had less than 15 minutes to figure out what exactly the reason for this was and how to stop it. He wanted to tell the team not to panic but he had a hard time keeping calm himself.

Coulson took a deep breath before saying, "Alright, the only thing we can do right now is to check every last detail of what could possibly be causing this." He glanced over at the monitor still not understanding why nothing seemed out of the ordinary. How was that possible? It was like someone on the inside purposefully wanted them to fly to the bottom of the ocean. Then he quickly looked back at his team.

"Fitz and Mack, I want you to check the engines again. Yoyo, search the plane for any signs of intruders or anything that isn't where it's supposed to be. Daisy, see if anyone has hacked or messed with our system. May, I need-" Wait. He glanced around the room again. Where was May?

"Has anybody seen May?" Coulson worriedly looked at his team members. He was only met with a handful of shaking heads in return. Ok, now this was a new level of bad. Not only was their plane going to crash, but May – the only person who knew how to fly the Zephyr – was missing too. She could be anywhere and they didn't have time to search for her.

"Simmons, you and I are going to see if we can fix anything in the cockpit." He could only hope that he would find May there or that Yoyo would find her whilst searching the Zephyr.

It didn't take them long to reach the cockpit door though Coulson needed a few seconds to catch his breath. He definitely wasn't 20 anymore, he thought with a sigh. He made a motion to open the door, but to his surprise it didn't bug one bit. When he tried and failed again, he turned to Simmons, a look of concern plastered upon his face.

"It's locked," Simmons said, sounded just as panicked as he felt.

Coulson tried everything to calm himself as he entered the security code into the keypad on the door. After the screen showed _Access Denied_ for the third time, he punched the wall on his right in frustration.

Goddammit, why won't it open?

As if reading his thoughts, Simmons explained, "It must have been locked from the inside with the pilot's security code, which means that no one on the outside can open the door unless it's been unlocked from inside again."

Coulson knew what this meant; there was no getting in unless they'd break the door by force or maybe Daisy could hack her way in. He hastily looked at his watch. _7 minutes_. 7 goddamn minutes until they would crash into the ocean. There was no time for Daisy to hack the security code. They had to do something now.

Still, a million thoughts were racing through his head. Too many things didn't make sense. The pilot's security code… The only pilot on the Zephyr was May – but why would she lock the door? Did that mean she was inside the cockpit? And didn't the autopilot fly the plane at night? If so, how was it possible that the door was locked?

Whatever the reason behind the whole situation was, they were never to find out unless they'd change something about the plane's altitude. So Coulson decided to go with option 1: violence. He raised his prosthetic hand in the direction of the keypad and fired. A couple of sparks and smoke flew in the air and then they heard the click of the door unlocking.

Finally.


End file.
